Katsuki didn’t think much of the message at first.

His omega sent texts like that all the time—riddled with typos, too many emojis, half a thought trailing into another. It was part of his charm, if you could call being a scatterbrained ray of sunshine charming. Katsuki would never say it out loud, but he loved that shit. Loved how every message felt like a window into that strange, sweet head of his.

It wasn’t unusual, but something about the way it was written made Katsuki’s instincts twitch. The urgency. The nerves bleeding through the screen. He grabbed his jacket and left the dorms without another thought.

Behind the training fields, his omega was already waiting—standing with both hands tucked behind his back, bouncing lightly on his heels like he was trying to keep the nerves from eating him alive. His hoodie sleeves nearly swallowed his fingers, and the breeze tugged at his hair while he stared down at the grass, thinking too hard.

Katsuki slowed to a stop a few feet away, frowning slightly. “You okay?”

The omega looked up at him with those wide, soft eyes—the ones that always made Katsuki’s chest feel too full—and gave a sheepish little smile.

“I, um…” He pulled something from behind his back. A slim white stick. Katsuki’s eyes landed on the tiny pink plus sign. “…I took this at my sister’s house.”

There was a pause. A long one.

The wind rustled through the trees. A bird chirped somewhere far off.

Katsuki didn’t speak.

Not because he didn’t understand.

Because he did.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint. That plastic stick might as well have been a bomb.

His omega was pregnant.

With his pup.

The scent—that’s what had been off. Sweeter. Warmer. He’d noticed it this morning, thought maybe it was just detergent or something, but now? Now it made sense. His body had known even before his brain did.

He stepped forward, slow, careful. The omega blinked up at him, nervous again.

“You’re not… mad?” he asked, voice small.

Katsuki exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years. He took the stick, looked at it like it was made of glass, then tucked it into his pocket like something sacred. He didn’t speak right away, didn’t trust his voice.

Then, finally, quietly:

“What the hell, I- shit, I love you,” he muttered. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

His arms came around the omega in a firm, protective pull, drawing him in close, like he was trying to shield him from the entire world. He pressed his lips to soft hair and closed his eyes.